


Mixed Signals

by The_Violet_Howler



Series: Kingdom Hearts and the Heroine's Journey [9]
Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Character Analysis, Heroine's Journey, M/M, Meta, Nonfiction, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25764070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Violet_Howler/pseuds/The_Violet_Howler
Summary: An analysis of how the depiction of Sora and Riku’s character arcs and relationship fits with how the Heroine’s Journey functions as a critique of cultural norms.
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Series: Kingdom Hearts and the Heroine's Journey [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765777
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Mixed Signals

As we near the end of this series of essays, I’d like to take the time to talk about something that I’ve been wanting to discuss in relation to the Kingdom Hearts series for a while. I briefly mentioned it in my previous essays but never went into detail because I figured some corners of the fandom would be unreceptive to discussion if I brought it up. But given how many times I have seen Kingdom Hearts fans praise this series for its lack of negative male stereotypes, I think it worthwhile to explore how the series handles gender norms in relation to the Heroine’s Journey. 

Maureen Murdock developed her template while working as a therapist with women in their 30s who had pursued careers in heavily male-dominated fields only to find themselves feeling burnt out and unfulfilled once they achieved their goals. A significant part of her inspiration for the Heroine’s Journey came from her patients describing how they had set out trying to achieve success in these environments by emulating the men in their life such as their fathers, while pushing away the influence of their mothers[1]. As such, deep down the themes of the Heroine’s Journey reflect on the struggles of someone who doesn’t meet the ideals of what society tells them a person of their gender is supposed to be and critique those gender norms. 

On a meta level, Kingdom Hearts represents a fusion of cultures, made from a collaboration between an American and a Japanese company. While there are a few places where the two cultures overlap in terms of gender norms, it isn’t a 1:1 comparison. Therefore, the gender norms of both cultures should be taken into account when analyzing how the portrayal of the two leads in Kingdom Hearts aligns with the critique of gender roles presented by the Heroine’s Journey. 

In terms of Japanese cultural norms, Sora’s emotional openness, compassion, optimism, and ability to easily form connections with others are fairly standard for male protagonists in Shonen stories[2]. However, following the first game in the series, the narrative begins to deconstruct this archetype over the course of Sora’s character arc. From KH2 onward we see him use his cheerfulness and optimism to hide his own insecurities and self-doubt. Our first introduction to his life on Destiny Islands depicts him competing with Riku in physical challenges, while the other kids talk about how much stronger than him Riku is, setting him up for a disproportionate focus on physical ability over emotional. This leads him to believe that he has no strength on his own and must rely on the power of his friends in order to be worthy of recognition and praise. 

Related to Sora’s insecurities about his own strength, one archetype found in both Japanese and American culture is that of the masculine protector. The idea that a man must be ready and able to physically defend the people he cares about from harm, often to the point of self-sacrifice. In fiction, this trope is most frequently employed with a character’s friends, siblings, or romantic partner. The gender of the protectee can vary depending on the story and their relation to the protagonist, but male heroes protecting female love interests is one of the most common ways I’ve seen this trope be expressed. 

Failure to uphold this ideal is commonly used as a source of angst for the male protagonist. Heroes who fit this mould are known to brood heavily if harm comes to their loved ones that they are unable to protect them from, and in some stories may be ridiculed or shamed by others around them. There are also variations where the hero’s inability to protect them is used as a source of angst for the protectee in addition to the main character. Common in stories where the one being protected is a friend, sibling, or love interest, some narratives will have the protectee react to the hero’s inability to protect them by deciding to “toughen up” so that they don’t _need_ protection. 

As mentioned in my first essay, the protagonist of a Heroine’s Journey and their Animus are frequently depicted as two sides of the same coin, with shared core character traits that manifest in contrasting ways because of their different circumstances. At the start of the Kingdom Hearts series, both Sora and Riku have built their sense of self-worth around their ability to live up to this idealized protector archetype. Their insecurities stem from their perceived failure to adhere to that role, with each of them coming at it from a different direction. 

Being the older of the two, Riku is presented as physically stronger than Sora, something which the other kids on Destiny Islands make note of in the first game. Tidus talking about how, despite getting stronger, Sora is “still no match for Riku[3]” and that Kairi “can always count on him(Riku)[3]” frames Sora’s insecurity about wanting to be on equal footing with his Animus as being rooted in his perceived inability to fulfill social expectations. 

When they meet again in Traverse Town, Riku’s first on-screen reaction to how Sora has changed since they last saw each other is surprise and confusion at Sora being able to defeat threats like the Heartless on his own, indicating that the root of Riku’s insecurities - which Maleficent of course exploits - is his belief that the value Sora places on their bond is conditional on Riku being needed as a protector. If Sora can fill that role himself, then what purpose does Riku have? 

In keeping with how protagonists are usually depicted fulfilling this role to the point of self-sacrifice, Sora and Riku have both shown a tendency towards throwing themselves in front of an enemy attack to protect someone they care about, such as when Riku leaps in front of Xemnas’s aerial blade to defend Sora in the final boss fight of Kingdom Hearts II, or when Sora puts himself between Kairi and Terranort. Xigbar even comments on this tendency when he talks about how he doesn’t admire “one guy leaping into danger if it means someone else might have to jump in to save him.[4]” 

From the western perspective, one of the things that many English-speaking fans have praised the series for is its avoidance of negative stereotypes in the writing of its male characters. A common cultural attitude in the United States holds that a man must always be stoic and aloof with everyone but his romantic partner. That a man who is open with his emotions, especially if it involves crying, is weak and unmanly. That engaging in activities that society associates with women and femininity makes one less of a man. 

But Kingdom Hearts, from the point of view of western fans, rejects all of that. The writing of the series allows its male characters to express the full range and depth of their emotions and not once does the narrative ever frame them as weak or pathetic for it. None of the male leads are ever made fun of for crying or expressing vulnerability, and they never reject doing something simply for being “girly”. Not only that, but the arc being set up for Sora to learn to acknowledge and work through his insecurities and self doubts instead of hiding them as an allegory works as a direct rebuke of the idea that showing emotional vulnerability is somehow unmanly. 

On another layer, Sora’s arc can also be seen as a critique of the Japanese concept of Honne and tatemae. Tatemae (literal meaning: “built in front” or “facade”) is the behavior and attitude one presents to the public that conforms to the expectations of society in addition to the individual’s station and circumstances, while Honne (literal meaning: “true sound”) represents a person’s true opinions, which are kept hidden except from close friends and may or may not match their tatemae[5]. This can sometimes be used on a more interpersonal level to evade confrontation and avoid hurting others’ feelings, such as when someone says “we should hang out sometime” with no intention of doing but not wanting to hurt the other person’s feelings by admitting that they aren’t interested. 

The idea of keeping one’s true feelings separate from what one says in public fits with how characters in the Kingdom Hearts universe have been shown to hide their own inner darkness and in some cases deny that it’s there, which Xehanort took note of in his conversation with the Master of Masters in Re:Mind. We also have Donald and Goofy’s talk in the beginning about how the Gummi Ship “runs on happy faces[3]” instilling in Sora - despite their good intentions - the idea that his negative feelings about the destruction of his home are a burden to the trio’s ability to complete their mission. As a result, Sora continues to downplay his own sadness and other similar emotions across subsequent games. As a contrast to this, Esmeralda tells Riku in Dream Drop Distance that everyone keeps things locked inside sometimes and that it’s okay to keep some things separate from the world at large until they’ve had time to figure out their feelings for themselves. In this context, the version of tatemae that Donald and Goofy present ultimately causes more damage in the long run, while Esmeralda offers a healthier model of the concept. 

So from a Japanese perspective, the Kingdom Hearts story is deconstructing two common archetypes found in coming of age narratives aimed at pre-teen and teenage boys and at the same time offering a critique of a common cultural attitude about individual expression. Meanwhile from a western perspective, the series defies conventional norms of masculinity and male characters in fiction while also critiquing elements of those views at the same time. 

Both of these are perfectly in tune with how the Heroine’s Journey structure provides social commentary on gender and cultural norms.

The fact that the series challenges the audience's perception of gendered narrative archetypes and social norms from multiple perspectives is also reflected in how it mixes the symbolism associated with its two lead characters. For example, the series repeatedly presents canon Disney Princess romances as parallels to Sora and Riku, but which of the two corresponds to the Disney Prince and which one is the Princess varies from one game to the next: 

  * Sora acknowledges in the first game that like Ariel, he wants to explore the outside world. The same game also presents Ursula tricking Ariel into helping her as a parallel to Maleficent’s manipulation of Riku. 
  * Kingdom Hearts I presents the Beast as a parallel to Sora through their shared refusal to give up after being laid low by Riku upon their arrival at Hollow Bastion. Meanwhile in Kingdom Hearts II, the Beast is presented as a parallel to Riku, as mentioned in my previous essay. 
  * The first game parallels Sora to Aladdin through similar shots of the two calling out for Riku and Jasmine respectively as they are forced to flee the location of a boss fight (the Cave of Wonders for Aladdin, Monstro’s stomach for Sora). Kingdom Hearts II uses Aladdin avoiding Jasmine at the start of Sora’s first visit to Agrabah to parallel Riku avoiding Sora throughout KH2 as a whole. 
  * While not considered an *official* Disney Prince (he’s still unofficially marketed as one), Kingdom Hearts III connects Hercules diving into the River Styx to save Megara’s soul with Riku’s sacrifice for Sora at the Keyblade Graveyard. Meanwhile in KH2, Hercules’s attempts to hide how exhausted he is trying to meet everyone’s expectations greatly resembles Sora hiding his doubts and insecurities. 



The fluidity of which one corresponds to the Disney Prince and which one is the Princess in these parallels also carries over to other narrative symbols. In visual mediums, the protagonist and Animus of a Heroine’s Journey are frequently depicted with a Yin and Yang motif - light and dark in balance with each other. In visual depictions of the concept of Yin and Yang, Yin is the black side - representing darkness and associated with femininity - while Yang is the white side - representing light and associated with masculinity[6]. Visual depictions of Yin and Yang use the Moon to symbolize Yin and the sun to represent Yang. Many visuals include an opposite color dot in the middle of each side, representing how the two forces balance each other out - there is darkness within light and light within darkness, so to speak. 

The depiction of Yin as darkness with an inner light aligns with Riku’s character arc over the course of the series, but Sora is the one associated with moon imagery. Meanwhile, Yang being the light with a bit of darkness inside matches how Sora is on the path toward learning to acknowledge the darkness in his own heart, but Riku, who walks the “Road to Dawn[7].” is the one visually connected to the sun. Even in other pairs that have narrative parallels to Sora and Riku, the Yin-Yang motif differs from conventional depictions. Instead of the typical male Yang and female Yin, Yozora and Nameless star’s Yin-Yang motif has the gendered colors reversed. Nameless star is dressed all in white with dark hair, while Yozora wears dark clothes and has lighter hair. 

This kind of fluidity in terms of symbolism and narrative parallels is perfect for a Heroine’s Journey. Many stories that follow the formula symbolically associate the male love interest with the archetypal damsel in distress, with the female protagonist being cast as the knight in shining armor heroically storming the castle in order to free them. But in the context of a Heroine’s Journey that is setting up a same-gender romance with two male leads, it adds an additional layer of meaning: 

A well known stereotype involving same-sex couples is that their roles in the relationship will be exactly the same as the roles that society associates with an opposite-sex pair, with one always corresponding to the “female” role and the other to the “male” one. The Uke/Seme trope common in fanfiction from the early 2000s is a notable example of this. By presenting a romantic relationship between two male leads where the symbolism and narrative parallels are framed in a way that depicts the implied gender roles as constantly being in flux, the narrative sends a message that people are too complicated and flexible for every romantic relationship to fit into the same rigidly defined roles.

In conclusion, the depiction of Sora and Riku both as individuals and as a developing romantic relationship is consistent with how the Heroine’s Journey challenges gender and cultural norms from the perspective of two different cultures. By following this narrative framework, the Kingdom Hearts series deconstructs gendered narrative archetypes from both Japan and the United States, reflecting its origins as a crossover between franchises popular in each country. 

**Author's Note:**

>  **Sources:**  
>  [1] The Heroine’s Journey; Maureen Murdock; 1990.   
> [2] TV Tropes; Stock Shonen Hero;  
> https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/StockShonenHero  
> [3] Kingdom Hearts; Square Enix; 2002.   
> [4] Kingdom Hearts III; Square Enix; 2019.   
> [5] Wikipedia - Honne and tatemae  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Honne_and_tatemae  
> [6] Wikipedia; Yin and Yang  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yin_and_yang  
> [7] Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories; Square Enix; 2004. 


End file.
